A Tender Moment
by Hatter and Hare Productions
Summary: After a day of bloodshed, the brave company of heroes retreats for rest in the walls of Bastion's Keep. There, a weary demon huntress finds herself having to face surrender, hate, pain...and love. A Demon HuntressXLyndon story, but probably not so good. Please critique, but please no flames.


A Tender Moment  
by the March Hare

The walls of Bastion's Keep thundered, each blow echoing like a goatman drum in her head. The day had been long, even though she was use to constant hunting. The horrors in the night no longer hid in the shadows, and their boldness was plain to see. They attacked with more audacity, more recklessness, more bloodthirstiness. It was like a millennium old fast was come to past, and now that the feast was ready, they were ready to consume…

She was not use to this…this madness. She had been caught unaware, and found herself worn, weak, ready to just…give up.

Why was she even doing this?

Then a shade, passing before her eyes, kindled her hate.

Screams…the last seconds of long-gone souls…

Fire…her life floating away on ashes…

Blood…everywhere…

Memories…oh, wretched mind!

Her hand crossbows fell out her hands, and she grasped her skull, trembling, _begging _for the pain of her family to stop, for the memories to end!

"Stop! Goddamnit! Stop!" she cried.

_No_, she thought, she would never end the hunt, never forgave the things that had destroyed her very happiness! She would walk this realm for the end of her days, putting bolts through the heads of any foul and misshapen thing that would dare show its face. Soon, she would hunt Azmodan to the fiery pits of hell itself and put a bolt right through his **black **heart!

Yet, as the rage wore off, the demon huntress felt her strength give, and her knees buckle. Her world darkened, and she fell against the wall, holding on it for dear life.

Life…what a deplorable word for her.

She was weak, and she knew it. She needed rest.

_Take a few deep breaths_, she thought_, steady your aim_. The world came back on, and she felt relief. Picking up her twin crossbows, she slung them on her back. Using the walls as leverage, she walked, one foot in front of the other, each step as calculated as the machines and devices she made.

By the time she had gotten back to her quarters, she was well again, but tired. Yet, what she found there was not rest, but a surprise.

"Well," Lyndon smirked, "you certainly took your time getting here."

Lyndon sat at a small, wooden table, firmly positioned in a chair with legs crossed. His crossbow leaned on the side of his chair, ready for use, and across him was another chair. The table was set for a dinner of two, the meal consisting of a slice of beef and a glass of red wine the color of blood for each chair. A single candle lit the atmosphere.

Raven frowned. He had made good on his threat.

"What is this all about, Lyndon?" she inquired, leaning on one hip and placing her hands on her hips.

"Is it not obvious?" he sang. "I have provided for us a dinner for two in the middle of a bastion under demonic siege!"

"You just want to die young, don't you?" she bit back.

"Well, perhaps not," he replied, "but at _least_then I will have plenty of young and beautiful women such as yourself mourning over me!" he smiled. Waving a hand over to the opposing seat, he waited expectantly.

Frankly, Raven's stomach growled like a bear, but she quickly subdued it.

"Are you that desperate?" she began. "We are in a _war_here, this close," she put her thumb's and her index finger's tips close together to emphasize the distance, "to killing the Lord of Sin (the last Lord of Hell), and you want to try to woo me again?!"

Lyndon stroke his moustache for a while, lost in thought. "No, this is not me wooing you." He finally answered, frankly. "This is just a shared meal among friends," He raised his glass to her, his eyes deep in pleading. "Let's relax, just for one night."

Raven's head slumped. "Fine," Suddenly her head jerked up, and she pointed a finger at him. "But if you try anything, I'll pin you to the wall!"

"Me? Trying anything?" he said innocently as he put a hand to his chest. "What sort of nonsense is that?"

Raven just groaned. Years later, she would say, she should have shot him then and there instead of putting up with all the heartache she would get.

Hunger guiding her steps, she sat down and began to eat, and Lyndon smiled, knowing full well that she had not eaten all day. That, of course, was what he had _planned_on for this moment.

She finished her first bite, and looked up to see the scoundrel all a happy smile. "As soon as this is done," she said, pointing a fork at him, "I'm leaving for bed." She then chased the meat down with a drink of red wine.

"Well, of course," he replied. "I would not _dream_of keeping you waiting."

"That's a lie," she said through a mouthful of beef. "You have held me up for the tiniest things."

"Well, you just never know what you'll find on a dead cultist." He countered.

"Like the time I had to shot the flesh-eating amulet out of your hand before it ate it off." She parried a slight smile landing momentarily on her lips.

"Well, as I said, you never know…" he said reluctantly, rubbing his hand.

The food was surprisingly good, and she found herself eating faster than she liked. At the same time, Lyndon began to slowly eat his meal, as if waiting for an interruption.

"How did you even manage to get this all here?' Raven asked after swallowing a large bite, trying not to sound as ravenous as she did.

"I have my connections," he smiled back.

"You made a deal with that fence Litton, didn't you?" she figured.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Guilty as charged."

She shook her head, yet he seemed not even the tiniest offended or even chatty. He was actually being…good company.

Raven feared the worst.

"Why are you saying so little?" she asked demanding. "Not that I'm complaining." She reprimanded, causing Lyndon to twitch.

Despite the quip, the scoundrel quietly laughed. "It's my gift to you." He said.

Raven raised an eyebrow. "A gift? Your silence as a gift? Now that's going to cost me a lot." Despite the jokes, she felt…guilty, she supposed?

She sat back, dropping the fork on the plate. "I do not deserve this."

Lyndon shook his head. "But you have done so much for us!" He announced joyously. "Give honor where honor is due, that's my motto!"

Raven shook her head back at him, closing her eyes and rubbing her head. "I deserve nothing more than everyone else with us."

However, Lyndon was quick to intercede. He gently grabbed her hand and smiled; his roguish face all-grins. She found herself…touched. Honestly, she had almost forgotten what it was like to have someone genuinely cared for her beyond just having her back in a fight. It was only until she met the band of heroes she now called friends did she really remember she was more than a weapon.

Waving a finger, the scoundrel denounced her guilt. "You may be just one of us, but you are Raven, a demon hunter _and_a dear friend." She seemed to smile at this, and Lyndon knew he had said the right things. "You have been there for us when the sky came crashing down, and when the earth opened to swallow us." She went to interject, but he gave her a stern, kind look and she hushed. "I know this is your choice, your life, but after all you've been through, after all you've down for us, how are you not worthy of honor?!"

For some reason, she found herself blushing. "Enough," she said suddenly. "I am…hungry." She then backed off with a bowed head; sitting in her seat and playing with a piece of meat.

Lyndon smiled, but said nothing more.

After swallowing the last of her meal, she went to drinking, though at a much more relaxed pace. She found herself full and happy…she couldn't remember the last time she had felt like this.

"So," she questioned further. "How did you get this fine feast?"

He laughed lightly. "I thought you wanted me quiet?" he replied cheekily.

"Shut-up and answer me question." She said, folding her arms.

"Now that would be impossible!" he laughed.

Raven rolled her eyes. "Just tell me how!"

"Alright," Lyndon calmly replied, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I had… helped him secure some of his wine stock he had lost when the demons first attacked."

"So that was why you insisted on going into that one tower!" Raven exclaimed. "So, I'm assuming you carried it in your pockets?"

"Yes, and that was what slowed you down." She bitterly remarked. "You almost got yourself killed." There was just the slightest twinge of fear in her voice.

"But it was worth it!" he defended, "for you see," he tapped his glass of wine. "One of those bottles contained the very wine you so very much enjoy just now."

"Your life is not worth a couple of bottles of wine." She said, firmly.

"Your right…" he glumly admitted, leaning on the table and frowning. "I should go out over a couple of pints of rum."

She shook her head dismissively. "You worry me at times."

"Not all the time?" He inquired. "I need to step up my game." He said smartly.

For some reason, that struck Raven as funny, and she giggled.

Lyndon was in pure shock.

"Wait a Kingsport's minute!" he grinned, deliriously happy. "I made you **laugh!**" he near-shouted. "I got you to _**laugh!**_"

Raven's face flushed bright-red, and suddenly she got up from the table, knocking her chair over. Slowly, she began to fade into the darkness and the scoundrel saw her happiness leaving with her.

"Please!" Lyndon begged, jumping up. "Stay, I meant no harm! It's just I never got to hear your beautiful laugh until now!"

She looked back at him over her shoulder, a bundle of confusion and fear. "Goodnight… Lyndon." And with that she opened her chamber door and shut it behind her.

She was able to collapse into her bed when she heard the scoundrel's voice through the door.

"I know you don't want to feel happy, or ashamed, or even human! After what we have all seen, we all don't! Hell, at times I don't! But that is what makes us human! If we lose that, we lose what makes us strong! Please don't give up on that! I beg of you, come out, _come out_!"

The scoundrel got no reply, leaving just him and an empty table with just a nearly burnt-out candle, no food, and two glasses half-empty of red wine the color of blood.

"I'm sorry," he said as the room faded into darkness, and he left it at that. However, if he had put his ear close to the door, he would of heard sobbing and two words over and over again.

_"Forgive me."_

* * *

_**Thank you**_ for reading this little story. To be honest, this is not my best work, but I had it already made and thought it would just be waste to throw it out. It **has **been a while since I have played the demon huntress and the scoundrel together, so I do not exactly recall all their little nuances. Regardless, I hoped you enjoyed it.

I am willing to take criticisms, but please not flames, and at least tell me if you liked any part of this and not just leave a criticism.

Hopefully, when I feel more inspired, I'll write some more LyndonXDemon Huntress.

Disclaimer: I own neither Blizzard Entertainment nor Diablo 3.


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